“Thanks for the reminder, oh Sarah of Ye Old Wet Blanket,” I groused, but she was right. I hadn’t dated anyone for longer than six months; and even then it hadn’t really been a relationship with any meaningful or lasting impact.

“Ye Old Wet Blanket was my grandmother’s name, I’ll have you know.”

I cracked a smile but couldn’t suppress my sigh of frustration. “It’s not that I’m lazy, it’s just that it doesn’t hold any appeal. And anyway, I’m too old for all that. Dating’s a young man’s game.”

Dating was a young man’s game, and yet I’d been prepared to ask Eilish out until her confession last week. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, regretting what I’d said after our kiss. But she’d avoided me for weeks, which was understandable given how I’d responded.

Or not responded.

I just couldn’t believe it was happening—that we were kissing—and then it was over. Even though everything I’d said about not being good enough for her was true, the compulsion to ask her out, spend time with her, was overwhelming.

Sarah let out a sound that was half laughter, half frustration. “You are a young man, Bryan.”

“Then why does the idea of getting to know someone feel like a chore?” A chore when it’s anyone but the one woman you can’t have.

“You’re thirty years old, practically a baby. You’ve just burned yourself out. You need to find the excitement in life again, the thrill to be had from simple things.”

“I do get a thrill from simple things,” I countered. “Didn’t I mention I fixed my tap this weekend? And I had Earl Grey tea with breakfast.”

“Oh. Stop. Too much excitement. I can’t handle it.” She said this deadpan, adding, “I’m talking about finding something you enjoy doing on the regular. You know, a hobby, you nutter.”

“I have hobbies. I’ve taken up bird watching.”

“Okay, go ahead, take the piss.”

“I’m not joking. I’ve been driving up to the mountains on my days off, when I’m not fixing up the apartment. Best few hours of the week.”

“Oh . . . you’re serious,” said Sarah, taken aback.

“Course I am. I’ve taken up golf, too. Well, I like going to the driving range from time to time at least.”

A sigh from her. “I take it back. You are an old man.”

“Glad you’re finally seeing things clearly.”

“You do realize the problem with all these new activities you’re filling your life with, right?”

“There’s no problem. I’m quite content with my life now.”

“They’re all solitary. Before you know it, you’ll be a cranky old hermit, shouting at kids to get off your lawn and complaining about how the postman is always late.”

“Come on, you’re getting a little ahead of yourself now—”

“I’m not. There’s a gaping woman-shaped hole in your life and you’re filling it with mundane pursuits. Soon enough you’re going to realize what I already know.”

“And what’s that then?” I asked, getting a little irritated now.

“That you’ve been sober for two years and you’re ready for a relationship. You’re not the same bloke you were at twenty-five. You’re one of the most reliable people I know, and you’re too much of a good-looking son of a gun to be single. Some woman needs to be getting the benefit of that body of yours.”

“Why, Sarah, if I’d only known you’ve been harboring this crush,” I teased, my irritability fading.

“Oh please, just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I can’t recognize an attractive man when I see one. Anyway, I’ve got to get ready for my shift at work, but think about what I said, okay? You deserve someone, Bryan, you really do.”

Deserve someone. Up until now, I hadn’t considered I deserved someone. My mam was a prime example of someone alone, someone who had pushed nearly everyone else out of her life, except me. But was I alone? Did I feel alone? After my horrible behavior for years, I hadn’t felt I’d deserved anything otherwise. But now?

I needed some time to think about all this.

“Okay, call me tomorrow.”

“Will do. Bye.”

After I hung up, I finished dressing and packing my things, mulling over her words.

Maybe Sarah had a point. Recently, I’d started having wet dreams, and that shit hadn’t happened since I was fourteen. It was downright embarrassing. I swear it’d only take a light breeze to make me come these days.

I was lost in thought when I stepped out of the locker rooms and collided with a body. “Oh shit, sorry,” I said right before her scent hit me.

Eilish.

“No, it’s my fault,” she said as she righted herself. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“That makes two of us.” I gave her a soft smile, ignoring the pull I always felt when she was nearby. There was no use.

I knew I wasn’t her favorite person, but at least now I knew why.

You remind me of my son’s father. . . What kind of eejit would let her go? I wanted to find the wanker and beat the shite out of him.

I moved to step by her, gritting my teeth at the unfairness of it all. Why did she have to be so beautiful? So . . . funny and clever, intriguing? Why, in spite of all the stuff I’d just said to Sarah about not wanting to go through the rigmarole of getting to know someone, did I still really want to get to know her? She was an anomaly and it made her dislike of me that much more of a blow.